Family Portrait
by FrankandJoe3
Summary: Just because he's always grinning doesn't mean that his home life was a fairytale. Slight KF/Rob


**I hadn't been giving Wally enough love lately so I decided he deserved a fic of his own. I know in the YJ universe, him and his folks are all loving-ish but… the other universes are better. Wallace Rudolf West. XD I hope kids sing "Wally the red nosed reindeer" or something when it's the holiday season. I would because I'm a dick/bitch when necessary... and even when it's not. Song is Family Portrait by P!nk. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own this song or the characters.**

Wally wasn't sure what officially triggered it.

It could've been the sound of the wine glasses violently striking the kitchen floor, giving off pitiful screams of pain as they exploded. Or maybe it was Megan's scream that followed a moment later from surprise. It also could've been Artemis' scream of pain as the glasses struck her bare feet, causing her to slip back and strike the floor too. Then again, it might've been when Dick noticed how scared he looked so he tried to comfort him, "She's okay Wally, I promise."

It didn't matter what triggered it though. The point was that a moment later, Wally found himself drowning in old memories, no sign of life in any direction for millions of miles. He was going to die in the midst of all the pain and torture of his childhood until someone finally realized he was gone and came out to find him in a rescue boat.

XxXxX

_Momma please stop crying, I can't stand the sound. Your pain is painful and it's tearing me down. I hear glasses breaking as I sit up in my bed… _

He was barely nine, and an only child to add. His days were spent hiding in his room in the corner, his TV turned up all the way, trying to focus on the videogame he was playing so he wouldn't have to hear _their _screaming.

It seemed like they were always fighting now. No coffee made in the morning? Fight. Didn't make the bed? Fight. Forgot to pick up your son from school? Fight. At the bar with buddies? Fight. Came home? Fight. Want to share the same bed? Fight. Made your son cry because you wouldn't stop fighting? Fight. Son thinks you're getting a divorce? Fight. Son asks you to stop fighting? Fight. Don't want to go out for our anniversary? Fight.

The second Wally would wake up, he'd want to go back to sleep because his real life was more of a nightmare than anything his brain could stir up on the spot. No dream can be more terrifying than watching your parents scream and hit each other every day. No nightmare could leave you sobbing harder than thinking that your parents are fighting because of something you did. Nothing in your head could make you bleed more than hearing the three heart stopping words, "I Hate You!"

This particular morning, Wally didn't have to groan into his pillow as his alarm clock woke him up from the peaceful bliss of unconsciousness. His parents didn't wake him up either. No, it was the sound of a wine glass breaking over someone's head. If that didn't wake him up, the feminine scream definitely did.

His mind raced a million times faster than he did. He leapt up from bed at a regular speed. Back then, if he had known that soon he'd have super speed, he would've laughed happily through the tears at even the thought of being able to escape hell. He bolted out of the room and down the hall, wearing an oversized white shirt and baggy baseball pajama pants. His red hair was shaggy and wild, hanging down over his emerald eyes in the way that drove him mad. He didn't have time to fix anything though. He just gritted his braces-covered teeth and ran.

"Stop! Stop fighting! Please!" he sobbed before _they_ could start screaming again.

The silence was worse than their screaming usually was. Why wasn't mom talking? Did dad hurt her? The skin around his freckles burnt a dark scarlet and he sped up, the kitchen in his sight in a moment. A second later, the only thing in his sight was the floor. Damn carpet; always out to get him. He let out a muffled cry of pain, almost positive he had broken his nose again at first.

"Wally, go back to your room. Your mother and I are discussing something," his father's rude voice cut the air, no concern in it for his pain.

Wally weakly set his hands to the carpet and he pushed himself up, looking into the kitchen. His eyes doubled in size and a cry of fear escaped his lips as he scrambled back in horror. There was so much blood in the kitchen… so much glass… why wasn't mom moving? He set a hand to his lips, ignoring the blood he felt from his nose. It wasn't broken, but it hurt like a bitch.

"M…mom?" he choked out, starting to tremble.

Rudolf West gazed out from the kitchen, as if seeing his son for the first time.

"S-She's okay Wally… I promise…" he started.

Wally jumped to his feet, diving for a phone and dialing as fast as his fingers would move. When his dad realized what he was doing, he ran for the phone, a look of determination in his eyes. Wally screamed in fear, bolting down the hall to his room. His dad was so close to catching him… so close…

"Hello, 911…" the lady in his ear rambled on in a monotone.

The terrified ginger locked his door behind him, leaning against it.

"Help!" he sobbed, almost unable to speak from how bad he was trembling. "D-Dad hit mom and I-I think she's dead! S-Send help!"

His dad was determined to get into the room, ramming his shoulder against the wood. Wally wasn't going to let that happen. He was going to stop this. He was finally going to escape hell. He deserved a nice spot in heaven where he could test out his wings in peace.

"Help is on the way. Please stay on the line with me…" the woman talked on, but Wally wasn't listening.

Tears ran down his cheeks messily and his knees threatened to give out with every slam, but he was going to get help. He was going to save the day and be a hero, just like Uncle Barry…

XxXxX

_It ain't easy growing up in World War III; never knowing what love could be. I don't want love to destroy me like it did my family. _

"Wally! Please! W-Wake up! You can't d-do this to me!" Dick's terrified and frail voice picked him up from the ocean of memories, throwing him face-first back into the real world.

Wally blinked his eyes in surprise, wincing as he felt the tears on his face. He was crying? In front of his best friend? He quickly raised his hand to wipe away the tears, but it wasn't his hand he felt on his face. This hand was much colder, not to mention softer. He looked down as his old bedroom slowly faded from sight, slowly lowering that hand. There was another hand in it. A small, pale hand. He traced the hand back to its source, surprised to see who it was.

It belonged to the furrowed black eyebrows, the pink-tinted pale face and the terrified dark blue eyes. It belonged to the rapid heartbeat and the slightly parted pale lips barely two feet from his. It belonged to the black hair that was messed up in a manner that made it purely adorable.

"D-… Rob? What are you…?" Wally asked slowly, studying the blushing face in front of him.

Relief flooded over the ebony's terrified expression and the pale hands tightened their grip excitedly.

"You're okay!" he cried, wrapping his arms around the ginger's neck without releasing his hands.

Wally had to awkwardly bend his arms back to stay comfortable, but he didn't care. The hug was a nice replacement to the bloody kitchen scene.

"Rob," Wally said, a bit more attention demanding this time, "What's going on? Why are you… ya know…?"

He didn't mind the affection with how touchy-feely he was, but it wasn't like his best friend to be hugging him and holding his hands and such. Soft hair tickled his tear-covered cheeks and relieved giggles filled his ears.

"I thought… you just passed out… I thought you were hurt and I… Don't ever do that again! Don't ever scare me like that again!"

Wally slipped his hands out of Dick's and comfortingly patted his back when he knew it was him that needed it.

"Sorry… I was thinking 'bout stuff. Didn't mean to scare you," he forced a smile.

He wanted nothing more than to run away. This was the kind of stuff he was afraid of: hurting the people he loved. It's what his parents did and he didn't want to be anything like them. He was out of hell! Why was he still burning? Dick slowly pulled away, a smile over his lips. He wasn't as scared anymore, definitely.

"The others are training, but Bats let me stay here with you. You've been out for a while. Why not stay out for a little longer? There's ice-cream in the fridge…" he offered with a smile.

To his surprise, Wally shook his head. His emerald eyes faltered for a moment as he stood up.

"Sorry… I'm just…" he forced a weak laugh, "Not feeling the 'aster'."

Even the playful word play that he regularly loved didn't make up for the confusion. Since when did the speedster pass up food?

"Is everything okay?" Dick seriously put a hand to Wally's head, hoping to feel a fever.

Wally thought Dick was just living up to his name and teasing so he ducked away from the hand.

"I'm fine… I just… I'm going to go run off some steam."

Without waiting for a reply, he dashed away from the ebony, forcing him to stare after him in confusion for the longest time. He wasn't going to hurt them. He wasn't going to be like his parents. He was 'KF' now, not 'Wally', and he intended to keep it like that. He'd much rather be a hero than a prisoner.

_**Follow me, follow me, fa la la la laa~  
><strong>__**And I'm still painting flowers for you~  
><strong>__**And even though she's dreaming, she knows sometimes the curiosity can kill the soul but leave the pain~  
><strong>__**I guess sometimes we both lose our minds to find a better road~  
><strong>_**  
>Confusing, sure. But hey, I'm at 198 now. Two left. I know that this memory never happened and I'm sure Mary West was fine but… *shrug* makes for a better memory if you ask me. Sorry if you didn't like it. Review?<strong>

**-Jo because Frank, and, and 3 were being lazy. **


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